


The Summerville Horror

by EarthScorpion



Category: Original Work
Genre: Horror, Lovecraft Prose Parody, Parody, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23333263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarthScorpion/pseuds/EarthScorpion
Summary: Life is hard when you're a guard whose purpose is to stand at the gates to the town and introduce basic questlines to newcomers.
Kudos: 30





	The Summerville Horror

It was that day that the stranger came to town that ended the illusions I had of my life and sent me hurtling into a spiralling madness from which I will never recover. Even now, I sit here at my desk, reliant on the sedatives I bought from the potion-seller to calm my nerves. But I must write this down, so that someone knows what has happened and what horrible things have occurred in this town. I can do nothing in the face of these horrors, but perhaps someone else can.  
  
It was a bright sunny day, as it always is in these parts, when he walked through the gates. He was an ill-favoured sort, with his facial proportions quite off. His eyes were a little too wide apart, his jawline far more pronounced than any regular person, and his pallour an unhealthy red. It was as if the gods had thought to take a number of features that could exist within a regular man, and then taken them to such extremes that he looked monstrous. His clothing was mighty queer, too, and though individual items might have looked fine on their own, they had been put together without much care for an aesthetic whole.  
  
I was waiting by the gate, and as I saw he was coming I walked up to him. He seemed frozen in place, unmoving, and I was not sure why. "Why, hello, good sir. Welcome to our town. You're nearly in time for the fair. I hope the darklings in the woods didn't cause you any problems."  
  
He paused, his eyes flicking up and down momentarily. "What is the name of this town?" he asked.  
  
"This is Summerville. We're a peaceful place, though the looming civil war fightens us," I said honestly. "Fortunately, though, the Mayor has done a fine job of keeping us out of it. There are some people in town who want us to pick sides, but no one has won out yet."  
  
He paused, and scribbled something in a notebook he produced. "What is this fair you mentioned?" he asked.  
  
"The Summerville fair? It's a famous thing. Well, it's meant to be. But with the civil war going on, it might not happen if we don't get some supplies. The traders won't come, you see." It was a great shame, it truly was. At the time, I hoped he hadn't come here just for the fair, because if he had, he might be disappointed.  
  
He nodded, once. "Goodbye," he said, and walked away.  
  
What a strange man, I thought - so brief, so terse, and so strange that he had not known the name of the town. He walked off, and I thought nothing more of it. The sun was shining down on me and I considered for a moment whether I should leave the sunlight and step in the darker cover by the moss-covered wall, but I decided against it. It didn't feel right.  
  
It must have only been a few seconds later when he approached me again. "Hello, stranger, glad to see you're enjoying our fine tow-"  
  
He interrupted me. "What is the name of this town?" he asked.  
  
How strange that he would ask me that again - and in just the same tone of voice! Still, I was always raised to be polite. "This is Summerville. We're a peaceful place, though the loo-"  
  
At that point, he shook his head, and let out a brief sigh of annoyance. His eyes flicked down. "What do you need to make sure the fair goes ahead?"  
  
What a rude man? I dare say I did not like him much, even then. But since he was asking, "The worst thing is the food supply. Talk to Hans, at the butcher's shop - he'll tell you what we need for the feast. The widow Alice says there's a burning bull that's been seen out by the woods and that'll close off the road east. And Alistair hasn't been able to find any high value goods to sell."  
  
He scribbled that down in his journal. "Goodbye." And with that, he walked off again.  
  
A very strange fellow, I remember thinking. And it was for that reason I walked off to the market, to speak with my cousin Manfred. I felt ill at ease, for something about that conversation had not felt right, yet I could not lay a finger on it. And I only felt more discomforted when I saw the stranger in the market, staring at the wares from Alek the potion-seller.  
  
Manfred sat on a bench, under the clock tower, staring into space. Always the daydreamer, he was, and he did not even look at me until I was standing right next to him.  
  
"Did you hear about the darkling cave on the edge of the woods?" he said to me, by way of greeting. "They say there's a darkling king who lives there, who's grown rich from the plunder. I'd like the money, but they say it's haunted."  
  
"It's a great worry," I said, and turned away from him, heading back to my guard post.  
  
It was only when I was half-way there that I realised that was not what I had meant to say! I hurried back to the marketplace, and saw Madel, the orc farmer. Something peculiar was going on - and I knew it was something to do with the stranger, who even now was loading up his satchel with twenty small bottles filled with red liquid. "I don't like what is going on with Geoffrey," I said to her. "He's pushing hard for the Mayor to side with Baron Voltz, but I don't trust him. I don't know where he gets his money."  
  
"It's very suspicious," she said, nodding amiably to me. We parted as friends, and once again I got half-way back to my post before I realised that what I had said was nothing to do with my original intent. And the stranger had been there. Again! Was it something to do with his presence?  
  
Again, I sprinted back, and ran into Emma. I had always had a crush on her, but now wasn't the time. "Did you hear about the darkling cave on the edge of the woods?" I blurted out. "They say there's a darkling king who lives there, who's grown rich from the plunder. I'd like the money, but they say it's haunted."  
  
"I'm scared of ghosts," she said, and walked away.  
  
Like an automaton, I felt my body twist and try to walk me back to my post. I fought it this time, though, because I had just felt Manfred's words force themselves out of my lips. So great was my inner conflict that I walked into a signpost, and became stuck. This strange force that moved wished to go one way, I wished to go another, and so I found myself quite unable to move.  
  
I do not know how long I remained there, unable to take a step in either direction, but the stranger approached me in time. Perhaps he would free me from this sorcery he had put me under. "Hello, stranger, gl-" I began.  
  
His eyes flicked up and down. "Goodbye," he said. And before my eyes he vanished, disappearing like the mist in summer.  
  
I do not know where he went, but I fear he will return. I listen now to the inane babble of the town, and hear the same words come up time and time again. And yet I cannot speak of it. It is like all of Summerville are actors in some strange play, who walk in from stage left and say their line only to leave again. The sedatives are the only thing that helps me sleep at night, for in my dreams I find myself walking through the same steps, time and time again. Perhaps we have always been like this - I do not know. Honestly, I do not remember. But before he came to town, I was ignorant, and ignorance is bliss. Now my eyes have been opened, and the little lies of the world I had always ignored are revealed to me.  
  
Now I wait, my stomach clenched into a little ball as sick horror lies heavy on my shoulders. What new horrors will he inflict upon us when he comes back - and he will, I know it. For the fair has not yet happened. And perhaps it cannot happen, not until he returns with meat and goods and other things for the fair. In the end, maybe there will be no fair without his will; no monsters slain without his sword; no end to the civil war without his choice. For I have heard stories, and they say that Baron Voltz is winning the civil war and it is all due to the aid of a stranger.  
  
Some might wonder why he does this. Does he seek to rule? Does he wish for treasure? No, I do not think so. I have looked into his eyes, seen the cold intelligence that lurks there, and I know that in the end this is all for its amusement.  
  
Written on this day in Summerville,  
  
 _Summerville Gate Guard_  
  


* * *

  
Josh skimmed the journal entry. "Lol," he said, scrolling down. "Neat easter egg from the devs."  
  
Then he took the four sedative potions from the desk as they were good against Insanity debuffs, and jumped out the window because it was faster than taking the stairs down.


End file.
